The Kind-of Winchester Gospels
by cherryblossom1999
Summary: Homeland Security. FBI. US Wildlife Service. Reporters. Police Detective. Winchesters. Hunters. Brothers. An outsider pov look on all things Winchester.


**Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. They belong to Kripke, and I am demanding that he let me adopt them because he seriously does not take enough care of my boys. **

**Please review! I love love love reviews. **

**Okay, so these are basically gonna be short, mostly unrelated stories about the Winchester boys. Most of them will be outsider pov, and I think that it's gonna be mostly gen. So no Wincest, but I may have a hint of Destiel later. Apologies to wincest shippers!**

**Chapter One: **

Tommy frowned and tried to conceal the tears filming over his eyes. It hurt – his eyes were feeling all full and his nose was itchy and he really wanted his mum. Not that he would ever admit it, of course. He was eight now, and everybody knew that eight year old boys never ever cried. Besides, Dad had told him in the morning that if he was good, then maybe they could get an ice cream sundae from the ice cream parlour after school, so he definitely could not cry.  
He sniffled, unable to stop a few tears from leaking out and landing on his pants. He wiped at them angrily, and shrunk in on himself, sitting miserably on the bench all by himself.

"Hey," said a voice, and Tommy jumped. He quickly smeared his sleeve over the snot and tears on his face and looked up, where he saw another kid standing to his side, holding out a tissue. Tommy grabbed at it and wiped his face, looking at the other kid as he did so. The other kid had weird, floppy brown hair that kind of fell all over his eyes, and he was taller than him. He was smiling a little bit nervously, and Tommy recognized him after a few more moments of staring.

He was another new boy from the class two years above his, and his name was… was… Simon? Stan? Tommy thought he was really cool. Even though he was new just like him, Stan hadn't cried at all, and he played soccer at lunchtime with the older boys really well.

"Are you alright?" Stan? asked, sitting next to him. Tommy nodded furiously, feeling really embarrassed. He tried to hide his face, hoping the other boy wouldn't notice, but he did, and he smiled a bit wider. He had dimples.

"I'm Sam." he said.

Oh.

"Hi," Tommy said back, and he knew his voice was a little squeaky. "I'm Tommy."  
"I know," Sam said, looking at the ground and kicking his shoes on the dust. Tom was jealous – Sam was big enough for his feet to touch the ground, but he wasn't. He shuffled a little bit closer to the edge of the seat, so that his blue sneakers were brushing the dirt.

"I've seen you around," the other boy added, and Tommy nodded, not really knowing what to say. It had been a long time since he had to make new friends. He'd had heaps of friends back at his old school, but then they had to leave because of what happened, and Tommy hadn't wanted to, but Dad was really upset and Tommy just wanted to make him happy.

He and Sam sat on the bench, looking at the empty playground. All the other kids had gone home already. None of them had wanted to talk to him, but plenty had talked to Sam, so Tommy didn't know why Sam wasn't with them.

Tommy frowned again, sneaking looks at the older boy every few seconds. He wasn't crying anymore, but he knew his face was all blotchy and red, and his nose was still runny. His face was probably even yuckier than usual – Tommy on a good day was pale and thin and small, and Tommy hated his freckles and his red hair, but his Mum had said he was her little sun. He didn't really feel like a sun these days. Sam, on the other hand, was tan and tall and everyone really liked him.

"So what's wrong?" Sam asked, chewing on a sandwich, looking rather thoughtful, like Dennis had every single time Mrs. Harris asked him a question.

"It's nothing," Tommy muttered. Sam shrugged a little and said, "Okay," before finishing the rest of his sandwich. Tommy was taken aback, but he shrugged too, mimicking Sam's movements, and they fell into a rather strange silence.

"My dad said he would pick me up as soon as the bell went." Tommy blurted out, hunching in a little on himself. He looked at his watch and felt tears welling up again. "It's been twenty minutes and he's still not here."

Sam gave him a small smile, but Tommy thought he looked sad. Sam looked like that sometimes, like he was going to cry but not the way Tommy did, maybe in some other way, like his Dad. His Dad would cry using his words, or he would cry every night when he didn't come home for ages and when he did he never stood properly and his words came out all funny. Tommy didn't know what that meant but he never liked it.

He thought Sam looked really old, even if he was only two years older than him.

"Don't worry," Sam said. "I'm sure he'll come. My brother's coming to pick me up, too, and he's late. Doesn't mean he won't get here."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." Sam replied instantly, looking so sure Tommy was envious. "He'll be here."

"That's what my Mum said too." Tommy looked sideways, but Sam was staring hard at the school gates. He took a big breath and continued, feeling brave. "She said just five minutes, and she went out to get me milk because she forgot before, and I didn't wanna go because the Avengers were on TV, so she went in our car but she didn't come back because there was someone else who was going too fast."

Tommy felt instead of heard Sam twitch beside him, and could feel him looking now. They were quiet again, and Tommy could feel the park bench vibrating because Sam was shaking his leg up and down, fidgety.

"I don't have a mum anymore, too," Sam said at last, and Tommy was surprised. "But she didn't leave me. I left her."

The watch on Tommy's wrist kept changing the time, and Tommy stared at it for five more minutes. He felt a little closer to Sam now, and he wondered if this was what it felt like to make a new friend.

"Tell me about your brother," he said curiously. Tommy didn't have any siblings, but all his friends from back home had hated theirs. Tommy would go to their houses and listen to them fight all the time. Sam and his brother were probably like that, too.

"He's a pain in my ass," Sam said dryly, but he was smiling really big. "His name is Dean, and he's fantastic with cars and has a lot of girlfriends. He's four years older than me, so he's fourteen."

"Wow," Tommy said, rather awestruck. "He sounds really cool." Sam scoffed, but he looked a little bit proud, like Dad had when Tommy had won a Terrific Kids Award at the end of the year when he was in his first year of school.

"Try living with him."

"Is he smart, like you?" Tommy asked, then blushed a little. "I heard someone talking about it."  
Sam blushed and laughed, his hair going in all directions. "Yeah," he said, quieter now. "He's brilliant."

"Sammy!" they both heard, and Tommy saw Sam turn quickly, his dimples reappearing in a flash. He turned, too, and saw a tall figure by the gates, wearing a big brown leather jacket and faded denim jeans. He came closer, and Tommy say Sam's smile falter a little.

"Is he okay?" Tommy asked nervously. The guy had a bruise on his cheek, a torn lip, and his blonde hair, while not nearly as long as Sam's, was sticking everywhere too. He was also walking a little strangely.

"Yeah," Sam said, standing hastily. "That's Dean, by the way. My brother. I gotta go."

"Oh, right," Tommy was a little disappointed. He'd be alone again, and who knew how long it would take for his Dad to come.

"Don't worry." Sam said, now bending down to grab his bag. "Your dad will come for you. I'm sure of it."  
"Really?"  
"Yeah. Trust me."

"Okay," Tommy said quietly, and watched as Sam waved goodbye and walked towards Dean quickly, reaching him in a flash. They exchanged a few words, Sam's hand twitching as if he wanted to reach out and touch the bruise on his brother's face, and then they walked away, their footsteps synchronised. He heard Dean laugh, then Sam laugh too, bright and clear and together.

Tommy smiled, waited, and wasn't the slightest bit surprised when he saw a familiar car roll into the parking lot ten minutes later.

His Dad's eyes were bright, his footsteps steady, and his voice clear when he reached him, and Tommy reached out for a hug that felt like it lasted a lifetime.


End file.
